


The Heat Is On

by aleksrothis



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Fisting, Double Anal Penetration, Forced Orgasm, Gangbang, Locker Room, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multi, Object Insertion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:47:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24691768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aleksrothis/pseuds/aleksrothis
Summary: Matty had never wanted his teammates to see him in heat. When they do, it is everything he feared.
Relationships: Omega!Sportsman/His Alpha Teammates, Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 4
Kudos: 170
Collections: Heat Fic Summer 2020





	The Heat Is On

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ba_lailah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ba_lailah/gifts).



> No resemblance to any actual team or player is intended. As much as possible, player names/nicknames are based on those occurring frequently in the NHL. 
> 
> I’m hopeful no actual knowledge of hockey is required for this fic but I’ve put a few things in the end notes just in case.

Matty stands outside Coach’s office. He doesn’t want to have this conversation. Playoffs start in a week and he’d be excited, except his heat is due to hit in about ten days, right in the middle of the first round.

The club have always told him they’ll support him but he’s the only omega on the team and so it’s hard to know what he’s allowed to ask.

Coach seems sympathetic when Matty explains his dilemma. “Tell me what you need?”

“I want to play,” Matty tells him.

Coach nods. “We’ll sort something out.”

Matty assumes he means a suppressant. They’re hard to get hold of, and his own doctor back in Sweden had refused to give him a prescription saying he was too young, but he guesses the team will have their contacts.

Two days later, when he’s summoned into the medical room, he’s expecting the team doctor to hand over a packet of pills. Instead, he drops a powder into a sports drink bottle and shakes it until it fizzes.

“What’s this?” Matty asks.

The doc gives him a look as though he thinks Matty’s being deliberately obtuse. “An inducer? Isn’t that what you asked for?”

Matty shudders. Inducers are even harder to get than suppressants, only supposed to be taken under medical supervision, and they have a bad reputation. He’s never had an induced heat before. “I thought you’d give me suppressants,” he says, hating the plaintive quaver in his voice.

“You don’t want your heat to be a problem during the playoffs, do you?” the doctor says dismissively. “If you want to be playing for the Cup, you’re looking at delaying your heat for more than a month. Besides, at this short notice, suppressants might not even have worked.”

Matty looks to Coach for his opinion but the older man only raises an eyebrow. “I thought this was what you wanted?”

It is, but not how he’d been expecting. Matty doesn’t have anything prepared at home; usually he would order in food for a heat and make sure he had fresh sheets and towels for after. Now he doesn’t know if he’ll have time. “How long am I going to have before it kicks in?” he asks. “I need to organise some things.” 

“You’ll have long enough,” the doctor tells him, his tone reassuring, though the look he gives Coach over Matty’s shoulder is less so.

Matty reluctantly agrees. The drink is unpleasant, sour, with a musty, almost stale aftertaste, and it doesn’t feel like anything is happening initially. 

When Coach tells him to follow, Matty expects to be taken to one of the trainers to be driven home. Instead Coach leads him to the locker room. Matty is already feeling warm by the time they get there and hopes whatever this is won’t take too long.

He had also been hoping the room would be nearly empty but instead it looks as though most of the team is here. More than half of them at least, Matty’s quick headcount turning up a few missing faces.

“Here he is,” Coach says and the conversations which had been going on all stop abruptly as everyone turns to look at Matty.

Matty never wanted his teammates to see him in heat. It always leaves him desperate to get fucked and he needs to get home where he has a drawerful of dildos waiting. It might be miserable spending a heat alone but not a lot of betas could keep up. Sure, an alpha partner would make it easier but he didn’t want one and certainly he wouldn’t have picked one of his teammates for that, except it seems that’s their intention. “I don’t think I should be here,” he tries to say.

“Don’t be like that, Meeks,” Timo says. “We all came in to see you.”

He doesn’t like where this is going but it would be rude to just walk out. Still, how had they known what was going on when he hadn’t? And it couldn’t just be coincidence, the looks they were giving him were too deliberate for that. They must have been told he’d be going into heat so they could make their case as to why he should choose them. Matty feels a surge of righteous indignation. He isn’t a prize to be handed out to the highest bidder; if he’d wanted someone to spend his heat with, he would have asked.

“Come on,” Patty says, taking a couple of steps closer and reaching out to touch his arm. “You can’t be comfortable. Wouldn’t you rather get out of those clothes.”

Matty shakes his head. He is feeling the heat rising, sweat already beading at the nape of his neck and slick is beginning to soak into his briefs. His heats don’t usually come on this fast and he doesn’t want to strip in front of them, doesn’t want them to see how wet he already is. Besides, even if they want him to pick someone, surely they’re not going to want to spend his heat here? It usually takes him three or four knots and the best part of a day to get through the worst of it.

“We’ve seen it all before, Meeks. You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of.”

He feels his cheeks flush at the backhanded compliment. He did work out hard, determined to defy the stereotype that omegas were soft and delicate. He could lift along with the best of them, which usually helped not to stand out in the locker room, but that doesn’t mean he wants to strip with them all actively watching him now.

“I’ll leave you boys to it,” Coach says, leaving Matty feeling lost. He should go now, while he still can. His sense of smell is overwhelmed by so many alphas surrounding him and he can’t quite bring himself to meet anyone’s gaze.

He feels a hand on his shoulder and turns but they have already grabbed the neck of his t-shirt and started to pull it over his head. Matty’s arms are trapped, making it hard to resist them and, whilst he can’t see, someone else’s hands are undoing his belt and pulling down his pants. 

“Look at this,” a voice says. Matty can’t recognise them without his other senses except to tell it’s one of the Americans.

“He’s soaked through his knickers already.” That’s Timo again, sounding delighted. 

Matty flushes with humiliation as fingers run down the crack of his ass, pulling away the damp fabric and then letting it spring back. He flinches at the touch, even as he feels himself getting slicker.

“You’re eager for this, aren’t you?” Sammy asks.

Matty feels his face heating even further as practically the whole team comments on how wet he’s getting. His shirt is finally pulled clear and he’s standing in a circle of his teammates in just his briefs. He doesn’t want this but there’s nowhere to go. 

He doesn’t know where to look to not see how several of them are already hard, erections tenting their sweatpants, as he tries to object. “Please, leave me alone. Just let me call a taxi.”

Matty is pretty sure the app would let him specify a beta driver and he’d picked his apartment building because they had policies for ensuring an omega in heat was safe. On the other hand, it would take a big tip given how much of a mess he’d probably make on their seats and at this rate he was going to be completely out of it before he even got home.

“You think you should be alone right now?” The captain’s tone implies concern but, if Joey really cared he wouldn’t be touching Matty like that without permission.

He’s not entirely wrong though. Not that Matty’s particularly happy with his current situation but the alternative isn’t great. Still, no-one’s asked Matty if he wants whatever this is, or even told him what’s going to happen. 

He looks to Carly, the goalie leaning casually against the doorway. “You don’t have to do this,” he pleads in Swedish.

“You think we’re really going to just let you walk away?” Carly replies in the same language. It sounds like a threat and Matty doesn’t really need more reasons to feel uncomfortable right now. There’s no way Matty’s going to make it past him if Carly doesn’t want to let him go. He would have hoped for better from his fellow countryman. 

His throat feels tight as drops back to English to try to reason with the others. “Look, I don’t know what you think is going on here but I don’t want a fuss. Just let me go home and we can pretend this never happened.”

Booch shakes his head. “You hid away for your last heat. I could almost think you didn’t like us.”

Right now he doesn’t like them, and he’s starting to think he should be afraid. The circle is tightening around him and there’s no way Matty can keep track of everyone. Worse, he can tell there is some unspoken conversation going on and he’s shaking by the time someone puts their hands on his waist from behind. He’d thought he understood what was happening but this is way worse than he had even considered. They never intended him to pick someone, they had already made the decision for him.

“I can’t wait to find out how tight you are,” Joey says, the captain’s lips brushing against his ear.

Matty shakes his head. “No, I don’t want it.” He’s trying to convince himself of this too, the heat starting to make everything hazy except the need to be touched, to be filled.

“Don’t lie to me, baby.” Joey grinds his crotch up against Matty’s ass and Matty can feel how hard he is. He hates himself for wanting it. “You’re dripping for my cock.”

“No, no,” Matty repeats, even as Joey forces him down to his knees on the locker room floor, bending him over until his face is resting on his arms. His denials are almost rote now, the heat taking away his control.

Joey peels his briefs down and pulls away just long enough to slide them off completely. When Matty tries to straighten back up, Sammy is in front of him now and wraps his fingers into Matty’s hair, pushing his head back down.

Matty hears a zipper being undone and then Joey’s hard cock is pressed against his thigh. “All for you,” Joey tells him and Matty can only whimper.

Then Joey’s cock is being forced into his passage. Even though he’s wet, that doesn’t make it easy. Matty writhes on the floor, whining as he tries to get away from the pain. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Joey groans. “Are you actually a virgin?” 

Some of the others laugh as Matty says, “No!” indignantly. He shouldn’t care what Joey thinks, what any of them think of him but it’s hard not to when he’s at the mercy of heat hormones, sensitive to alpha influence.

He’s telling the truth, though it’s also true he doesn’t usually sleep with alphas if he can avoid it and he would never have chosen one of his teammates.. 

Joey pulls back until only the head of his cock is inside Matty, holding him open. He can feel the strain as his hole both tries to push it out and accept it. Joey fucks him with no regard for Matty’s pleasure, just ruthlessly thrusting in and out.

As much as he hates the audience, the implied threat of what is to come, Matty can’t deny that it feels good to be full, to be fucked without having to put any effort in it. Usually after a heat he ends up with sore wrists, aching thighs, from trying to work toys into himself. And he hadn’t realised how much he had missed the scent of an alpha surrounding him from heats spent on his own.

He isn’t sure if he is relieved or disappointed when Joey pulls out without knotting him, feeling another flush of humiliation as Joey comes over his ass, and the cum drips down onto his balls.

“Who’s next?” Joey asks and there is a chorus of eager voices as Matty realises with dawning horror exactly what they have planned. He had thought Joey would be bad enough, now he wonders exactly how many of them they intend for him to take.

Matty can’t bring himself to look up and, though he can’t see their faces, he can still recognise their voices and he wishes he couldn’t. He doesn’t know how he’s going to face them afterwards, play on a line with them, trust them to have his back. He shudders at the thought of them talking about him like they do their hook-ups even as he aches to be fucked.

Joey picks Dima to go next. The big forward drops his weight across Matty’s back, teeth digging into the back of his neck. Dima rocks his hips and his cock glides against the slick and cum across his thighs. 

Matty wants to tell him no but at the same time the tease of it almost has him hitching his hips back. The heat is like a hunger aching to be satisfied as he feels another pulse of slick dripping out of his hole.

“So wet,” Dima says, sounding pleased as he lines himself up and pushes in, forcing a gasp out of Matty. 

Matty is still tense and the stretch burns. Dima’s cock is longer than Joey’s, opening him up further inside, feeling as though he is being carved apart.

Dima reaches around to stroke Matty’s cock to no avail. He’s still in too much discomfort to keep an erection and Dima quickly loses interest as he continues to thrust. Matty is grateful for the reprieve though he knows it won’t last.

“Going to knot you,” Dima grunts into his ear after just a few minutes. “Fill you up with my seed. Breed you.”

Matty can just about still remember enough English to protest. “No, I have contraceptives.”

“Oh,” Dima laughs. “Did they forget to mention how the inducer messes with them?”

Matty can’t stop the tears running down his face. The whole point of doing this was so he could still play. Dima must be lying, why would the team staff have agreed to it? But now he realises they had never actually promised him that. He’s far too young to be a parent, he’s not even legally allowed to drink in the US yet, though he’s been legal back home for two years now. Surely they can’t make him do that?

Over his head, Matty can hear the team discussing whose turn it is to fuck him next and whether using his mouth counts as their turn. Matty might not be able to stop them fucking him, can’t deny that his heat is making even this rough use feel good, but he isn’t going to just give in.

When they tip his head back and Brownie puts a hand on his jaw, Matty bares his teeth at him.

“We can find a gag,” Brownie threatens. Matty doesn’t doubt that he would, as if that’s going to make him want to suck their cocks. He just hopes they don’t have a ring one to hand.

“Leave it,” Joey says. “It’s not worth it. He’ll be begging soon enough and I’d rather hear it.”

He probably isn’t wrong. Dima’s knot hasn’t even taken the edge of his need, which is growing stronger by the minute. Matty wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of knowing that though, not so soon. 

Matty grits his teeth as Brownie uses his hair to pull his head back until his back arches. Matty reaches out to push him away and someone grabs his arms from behind, twisting his wrists painfully against the small of his back.

“Feisty, aren’t you?” Smitty snarls. “You want to fight me, go ahead.”

Matty stills. No-one wanted to fight Smitty: nearly two metres tall and the best part of 120 kilogrammes, which was probably half again what Matty weighed soaking wet, and Smitty’d never lost a bout in his career. 

“That’s more like it,” Smitty strokes a hand down his hand, gentle in a way that’s at odds with his on-ice reputation. His hands are cool on Matty’s overheated skin. “I knew you could be good for us.”

Brownie gets his cock out, presses the head against Matty’s mouth. Matty purses his lips tight, teeth clenched behind them in the one small rebellion he could manage. Brownie holds him in place by his hair, rubbing his fat cock over Matty’s face, leaving trails of pre-cum. “You think you’re too good to suck my dick, do you?”

Even knowing he’s trying to provoke a response, Matty has to struggle not to argue. He’s already said he doesn’t want this, and they’ve made it clear they don’t care. There’s no benefit in getting hurt just to make a point. Besides, Brownie’s always been an asshole on and off the ice.

Matty’s so hot now, and Smitty’s touch is welcome as he thrusts in, with no build-up. Smitty’s cock slides in easily now Matty’s been opened up. The angle makes it even more intense, the alpha cock relieving the internal ache as Smitty fucks him hard and deep. 

“I ought to jerk off over your face, see how you like that,” Brownie says.

“You better not get any on me,” Smitty tells him.

Brownie subsides but Matty doubts he’s given up that easily; he’s probably just thinking of something worse.

Still, without his commentary, Matty has to focus on the physical sensations and feels himself getting wetter as his body responds to the alpha pheromones. Of course, his lack of arousal couldn’t last and Matty catches himself rocking back against Smitty’s thrusts.

“That’s it, baby,” Smitty says. “I’ll give you what you need.”

He feels exposed as he starts to get hard, knowing they’re all watching his response.

“I told you he wanted it,” Timo says.

Matty cries, shaking his head, though he knows they’re going ignore it. Whether he wants them or not isn’t going to matter, the heat is going to mean he’ll be begging for whatever they give him.

He feels Smitty’s knot swell inside him and can only hope this whole ordeal will soon be over. 

“Touch yourself, sweetheart,” Smitty says.

At first Matty refuses but Smitty forces his hand down to grip his cock, guiding him to stroke himself.

“Go on, I can feel you clenching around me.”

Matty can’t help it, as shocks of pleasure go through him from the way the knot is filling him.

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” Smitty says. “That’s it - don’t stop now.” 

It takes an embarrassingly short time for Matty to come, and he comes hard, slick gushing out of his hole at the same time.

Matty doesn’t understand why he is still so wet, aching to be fucked despite everything they have done. It only took a few knots to break a normal heat, and he usually needed a break in between when he got too sensitive but this induced heat didn't seem to be following the same rules. He found he was afraid of what it would take.

Surely they don’t actually intend for the whole team to fuck him? He wouldn’t be able to walk after that, let alone play. Except it seems they do as Brownie replaces Smitty, his displeasure at being thwarted evident in his rough thrusts. 

After that Matty loses track of time, and how many knots he’s taken. He doesn’t think he passes out but everything feels foggy and far away. He knows he begs until his throat is raw, whether for them to stop or keep going he doesn’t even know, and still he isn’t done. Though they make him come, it does nothing to ease his heat.

He feels used as he’s passed off between the fourth line guys, the healthy scratches, who are no doubt delighted to see him brought so low. Slick and cum coat the backs of his legs, but despite the humiliation Matty can’t help pushing into their touch.

When he comes back to the present, he feels raw and still so desperate. Even after all that, Matty’s heat isn’t any closer to breaking, he’s burning up. He just needs more.

“Look at that wrecked hole,” G says, his Quebec accent unmistakeable. “I’m not sure he’ll feel my cock. I could probably fit my whole hand in there.” The older defenseman had always been kind to Matty and it feels like more of a betrayal for him to be doing this. At the same time, Matty’s almost willing to beg for anything they will give him.

“So why don’t you?” Brownie laughs.

Matty has never taken a fist before but first now he’ll let them try anything to sate this desperate hunger. Three fingers fit easily, and four aren’t a strain until G reaches the final knuckles. He presses them in and out like that a few times, thumb rubbing against Matty’s taint as his hole floods with slick, trying to let it in. Then G pulls back and the next thing Matty feels is G’s thumb pushing up against his rim.

It takes a few more tries to get the hand inside him, wider than a knot, and that would normally swell inside him, not needing to pass his rim. Matty heaves with sobs until eventually it breaches him and Matty’s hole closes around G’s wrist. 

It’s almost a relief, the fullness easing the ache inside him where all their knots couldn’t. Matty thinks this might be enough, even as he tries to catch his breath against the discomfort, and then G closes his fingers into a fist and Matty cries out. It hurts but at the same time his heat finally feels close to breaking.

Matty bites down on his lip to stop himself begging since he’s no longer certain he’d be asking G to stop.

“Come on, G,” Patty complains. “I don’t want to be here all day.” Patty’s one of their As - he doesn’t say much but when he talks they usually listen. Not today.

“I’ll be done when I make him come,” G tells him, sounding impatient as he twists his fist again.

Matty has come several times already, until his balls ache, and he doesn’t want to come again but he can’t deny he can feel the pressure building. G presses his knuckles directly over Matty’s g-spot, working it over and over. Even though he isn’t hard, Matty spasms with it, feeling slick gushing out of him.

“Did he just squirt?” Sammy asks, sounding impressed.

“You can tell how much he likes it,” G gloats.

Matty had definitely lost track of who was there and hadn’t taken their turn. The room sounded emptier, some of the team not interested in staying and watching the show after they had got what they wanted. Though he can hear showers running, there are still a few people left.

Sammy and Booch argue over who’s turn it is next. They’re both his lineys and want to use that to claim their turn.

“If he’s that loose, maybe he can take both of you at once?” Joey suggests.

“Two dicks, maybe, but surely not two knots,” Booch says, incredulously.

“Why not try it?” says Timo. “It’s not like he’s going anywhere.”

Matty wished he’d forgotten all his English. Maybe it would be easier if he didn’t know what they were going to do to him.

They manoeuvre Matty onto his side, pulling his knee up to his chest and his leg over Sammy’s hip. Booch pushes in first, sliding straight in without any friction. He pumps a few times and then pulls back until just the head of his dick is inside. Sammy lines his dick up alongside and then they both push in together. 

Even with everything they’ve already done to him, this hurts. It feels like he’s going to tear apart but no matter how much he struggles, it’s nothing for the two of them to hold him in place while they use him. At first they try thrusting at the same time, the stretch bringing more tears to Matty’s eyes and forcing helpless cries out of his mouth. Then they work out a counter rhythm, one pushing in as the other pulls out. That’s more bearable and Matty starts to relax enough that the pleasure overrides the pain. 

As they get close to orgasm, the rhythm starts to slip, both of them thrusting in unevenly, working towards their own release. Matty had forgotten the threat to knot him while they were both inside until he feels the first one starting to grow and neither of them stop.

Caught between them he doesn’t have any way to escape and so he’s forced to let them try. Matty’s not sure if they’re trying to be considerate to him, to each other, or just focusing on what feels best for themselves, but the two knots roll against each other and swell into him as though they’d worked out exactly how to drive him wild.

There’s nothing he can do except take it, and try to keep breathing past the hiccoughing sobs. He’s never been this full before. It hurts but somehow not in a bad way, more of a deep satisfying stretch like after a hard workout than the sharp pain from earlier. Although Matty never wants to go through an induced heat again, right now he’s floating.

By the time they pull out he’s so loose, it hurts trying to clench the muscle, his whole passage aching but the euphoria of his sated hormones means he can hardly bring himself to care. He lays limp on the locker room floor, eyelids almost too heavy to lift open even if he wanted to.

“Look at that useless hole,” Brownie says. “He can’t even keep it closed.”

There are rough fingers probing at him. “So fucking sloppy. What else can we try?”

“We could put a stick in there and it wouldn’t touch the sides,” Timo offers.

“Could probably fit a puck in that mess,” says Sammy and they all laugh. 

Matty can feel the chill of dried sweat on his skin and knows the heat is fading. Unfortunately he doesn’t think his teammates are going to be satisfied.

“I’ve got a bottle?” Brownie suggests.

Matty had known it would be him. He flinches at the next touch to his over-sensitive skin. 

“He’s cooling down, ” Booch says, sounding almost considerate now he’s got what he wanted..

“Best enjoy it while we can then.” 

Matty expects it to be the neck of the bottle that they press against him but instead it’s the base and it still goes in. He shudders as somehow it feels more violating than anything they have already done.

“Look at that,” Timo says, sounding awed.

The rigid plastic feels so different from a cock, especially when it gets to the ridged neck. Matty starts to cry again as Brownie fuck him with it for a couple of minutes before he gets bored.

“Aww, he’s no fun now he’s not struggling.”

“Coach said leave him when we’re done,” Booch says, and Matty hopes for a moment that he will convince them but he isn’t that lucky.

“I’m not done,” Patty says. “Who else?” 

“Me.” Matty hadn’t realised Joey was still here, he’s been that quiet.

“I didn’t notice you there, Joey,” Sammy says. “Didn’t you already have a go?”

“I didn’t knot him. I wanted to wait until he was really loose and sloppy.”

“Well he definitely is now,” says Timo.

They all laugh, as Patty says, “Someone pass me a towel or something,” his fingers playing with Matty’s rim.

“His shirt’ll do, right?” Booch asks.

Matty can’t even bring himself to care after everything that has already happened. The exhaustion is normal after a heat but usually he’d be warm and safe in his own bed. His mouth is dry, with a chemical aftertaste, and his head aches, which he supposes is an after-effect of the inducer. He’ll add that to his negative review, Matty thinks, slightly hysterically.

He can’t hold himself up anymore, just goes limp in their grasp as they try to move him. The fabric is pressed to his ass and two fingers work the cum out of him. 

“Just push it up inside him, it’ll soak it up soon enough,” Sammy suggests.

“I suppose that would work,” Patty say and Matty feels it corkscrewed into him, like wiping out a glass. He shudders as the dry fabric scrapes at his insides. “That should do it.”

The shirt is discarded and the next thing Matty feels is a tongue at his sore rim. Even though it doesn’t hurt, he is too oversensitive for it to actually feel good. Somehow Patty manages to coaxes more slick out of him when Matty had thought he was done; just a trickle but enough for Patty to make sounds of evident pleasure. “Fuck, you taste good.”

Matty feels completely wrung out as Patty takes his time eating him out, all sensations reduced to a dull ache. He isn’t going to come again and isn’t sure he could move away if he tried. Even though he can't get hard, his hole spasms one last time, with another gush of slick.

When Patty finally pulls away, the cool air of the room is even more evident and Matty shivers, wishing for his bed and pile of soft blankets. How much more can they want from him?

Joey rolls him over onto his back and Matty tries to glare at him but it doesn’t have much effect. He supposes he doesn’t look particularly threatening covered in sweat and cum and he is too exhausted to put up any sort of struggle.

Holding Matty’s legs up, Joey thrusts into him. Matty can barely feel it and he doesn’t see any reason to do anything except stare straight up at the ceiling. There is no-one else in the room and some of the motion sensitive lights are already starting to go out.

Joey thrusts steadily, no humiliating commentary now he no longer has an audience for it, and somehow it makes it worse, that Matty is simply a convenient hole for him. Joey’s knot starts to swell and he continues to thrust evenly, the knot easily pushing in and out of Matty’s loose hole. His body is too worn out to even lock down on the knot, letting it grow and grow and still passing through his aching rim.

Finally Joey comes but, without the tie, the fluid just leaks out around his knot. Some small part of Matty thinks of the waste, that Joey’s seed won’t contribute to breeding him, even as the greater part knows he wouldn’t want it anyway.

Once his knot goes down, Joey leaves him there without a word. Matty closes his eyes and waits for whoever is supposed to come to deal with him. It seems unreal that it’s over. He could get up and shower, find his things and try and make his way home. Matty longs for the comfort and privacy of his apartment but the thought of all the steps it would take to get there is too much.

He can’t imagine coming back tomorrow for practice, dressing for games with them as though nothing had happened. Maybe the training staff will tell him not to bother. Maybe no-one will come anyway and he’ll still be here in the morning. Either way, caring takes a lot more energy than he has left.

**Author's Note:**

> In most leagues, playoffs take place after the end of the regular season over several weeks and the winning team is awarded ‘the Cup’.
> 
> In the NHL, which the generic league in this fic is loosely based on, teams are made up of up to 2-3 goaltenders (goalies), 12-14 forwards and 6-8 defensemen, making up a total of 23 active players. Forwards play on lines of 3 players, referring to themselves as ‘linemates’ or ‘lineys’ with the first line being made up of the best players and the fourth line being the 'worst' (comparatively), while defensemen go in pairs.
> 
> Only 20 players can be used for any one game which means up to 3 players may be 'healthy scratches' each time. These are usually the same players from game to game rotated between the fourth line forwards and bottom pairing defensemen.
> 
> Players mostly come from Canada, the US, and a variety of European nations. Promising young players start in the league between 18 and 21, while veterans are usually considered to be players in their mid-to-late thirties.


End file.
